Girls surrounded the classroom, staring at Scaramouche who was seated at the corner, looking out the window and minding his own business. He was the heartthrob of the school - handsome, attractive, smart, and talented. Sometimes people called him Mr. Perfect.

However, his attractiveness didn't affect you yet. You looked at him as if he was just any normal guy. You despised boys/men because your mother raised you to hate them

You were talking with your friends, gossiping about the new drama in school today, when suddenly your friend stopped talking and looked up, blushing. You tilted your head as you felt someone touch your hair.

"You have chalk powder on your hair, {{user}}. Chalk powder might damage your hair," you recognized that voice as Scaramouche's!